


The Nightmare

by Esin_of_Sardis



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, remedial fluff, s3e11 cure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esin_of_Sardis/pseuds/Esin_of_Sardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle wakes up from a horrible nightmare (s3 midseason finale) and gets unusually clingy with Rumpelstiltskin. He doesn't understand why she suddenly won't let him out of her sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt on tumblr

Rumpelstiltskin wakes to a sharp breath that isn’t his. Eyes flying open, he looks around for the source of the noise. Belle is sitting straight up in bed, breathing heavily.

“Sweetheart?” he mumbles.

“I’m fine,” she says, her chest heaving a few more times. “It was just a bad dream.”

* * *

He wakes again in the cool of the morning. The sheets around him are warm, so unlike the cold forest floors of Neverland. And Belle is there. She’s curled up beside him, pressed up against him in her slumber. Her hands are clenched between his chest and hers, nails pressing into palms almost hard enough to break skin.

Daring to expose himself to the cold enough to sit up a little, he tries to pry open her fingers. She stirs at his touch, moaning a bit without waking. He smiles and leans down to brush a kiss against her cheek. How he longed for this in Neverland—and even before then. The joy of waking by her side each morning, knowing that their whole future is ahead of them. Together. In love.

Another kiss wakes her and her eyes snap open, panic taking them for a moment before she’s awake enough to focus on him. She gasps, her face lighting up, then she’s practically lunging at him, her mouth completely covering his and her slight weight knocking him back into the bed. Her kisses are hungry, desperate, and he can barely keep up with her. He’s not complaining, only shocked a bit by her enthusiasm. Still, not complaining.

* * *

 

Later, Rumpel finds her reading in the study. She’s always reading. There are so many more books in this world than either of them ever even saw in their own. Belle seems determined to read every single one of them. The chair she sits in nearly buries her. It’s big and soft, enough to fit both of them. Her brow is creased with concentration, but her eyes sparkle. A good story then. She smiles when he enters, scooting over so there’s room for him.

“I can’t, sweetheart,” he says. “I have a few things to take care of in town. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

A strange emotion crosses her face. Fear? Terror? Her book snaps shut and drops to the chair, bouncing a bit on the cushion. “I’m coming with you,” she says.

“There’s no need. Finish your book. You were enjoying it.”

“I’m coming,” she says, leaving no room for argument. He shrugs, and she takes his arm, gripping it tight.

* * *

 

In his shop, she’s antsy. She simply cannot sit still. Her book is still sitting on the chair at home and she claims to be too wrapped up in that story to start another one. He offers to go get it for her. She jumps up and says it’s alright. He ducks into the front of the shop to check his records. She follows him, hopping up on the counter. He returns to the back room. She sits on the bed there, kicking her feet against the floor and watching him. He tells her he’ll be back in a second—he left his pen in the front. On his way back, he nearly knocks her over, not realizing she was behind him. She paces the back room. She babbles. He can’t think. She can’t keep quiet. He asks her to please wait back here while he goes out front. He needs to add some things up. She follows, whispering that she’ll be very quiet. Her fingers drum a-rhythmically on the glass.

“What’s going on?” he asks, as calmly as he can. “You’re not yourself.”

“I’m fine.” She’s too defensive, lying for sure. He doesn’t say so, just waits. “It’s the nightmare,” she says finally, her voice thick with emotion, refusing to meet his eyes. “I dreamed… I dreamed that you died.”

A single tear falls from her beautiful eye. Instinctively, he wipes it away. It’s hot on his finger. The simple touch turns into a caress as his hand linger on her face. “Sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer to her, “I’m here. It was a dream.”

She nods, taking a shuddering breath. Then without warning she’s flung herself against him. His arms wrap around her, holding her close. “I couldn’t live without you,” she sobs.

“Nor I without you.”


End file.
